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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520222">Consequences</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuskerAnna/pseuds/HuskerAnna'>HuskerAnna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnificent Seven (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Headaches &amp; Migraines, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt Chris, Hurt/Comfort, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF, Probably Medically Inacurrate, Protective Team, Team, Team Dynamics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 05:16:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuskerAnna/pseuds/HuskerAnna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chris hides his migraines from the team, he must face the consequences.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chris Larabee &amp; Vin Tanner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Consequences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/714628">Lost and Found</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubygirl29/pseuds/rubygirl29">rubygirl29</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set in the Magnificent Seven ATF: AU, in some vague time where they’ve been together for a while and trust each other. Set roughly in the current time period, without Covid, because that’s what I picture them in, not the late 90’s/early 2000s. Un’betad, but I have gone over it several times. This is my first time writing in the Magnificent Seven fandom, so the voices might not be quite right. And if Chris is a little OOC, well, he’s got a reason to be.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m not late!” JD blurted as he rushed through the door into the bullpen.</p><p>“Indeed, Mr. Dunne, your appearance occurred precisely at the prescribed time,” Ezra drawled from his chair.</p><p>“Good thing, too, ‘cause I reckon Chris ain’t feelin’ too charitable this morning,” Buck commented, leaning back in his chair.</p><p>Nathan’s head came up. “He alright?”</p><p>Buck smirked. “Reckon he’s regrettin’ last night, is all. Came in wearin’ sunglasses and an’ almighty scowl.”</p><p>“That meetin’ with Travis prob’ly didn’t help, either,” Vin added.</p><p>“He does hate those monthly staff meetings,” Josiah rumbled. “It would be for the best if we got our paperwork done to have something to appease him when he appears.” That brought sighs and grumbles from the rest of the team, but after a few minutes, silence reigned as everyone settled down to churn out paperwork.</p>
<hr/><p>Chris sank into his office chair and pinched the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to ease the migraine that gripped him. He’d woken up with it building, and the medication he took for it did nothing. Chris had nearly called out of work, but he knew that Travis needed him for the monthly staff meeting. So he had pushed through the pain and made the drive into Denver. He’d managed to make it through the meeting, well aware of the pitying and condescending looks from his coworkers who believed he’d spent the night drinking and was hungover. Buck had undoubtedly thought the same thing, from the look on his face when Chris had stumbled through the bullpen on his way to his office. Chris had collapsed on the couch without turning on any lights, hoping the migraine would ease. When it didn’t, he had dragged himself into his bathroom to search for the migraine medication he kept at work. It was missing, though, and Chris vaguely remembered using the last of it several weeks earlier and tossing the empty bottle into his bag to refill. Chris switched from pinching the bridge of his nose to clutching his temples desperately as JD’s voice pierced the quiet. After a few minutes though quiet reigned again, leaving Chris to wallow in his misery. He swallowed hard against the nausea that had been plaguing him all day; he was fairly sure that the only reason he hadn’t actually gotten sick was because he hadn’t put anything his stomach. Resigned to his misery, Chris turned on his computer and logged in. He had two reports he had to get done today, then he could crash and hopefully sleep the migraine off.</p>
<hr/><p>The growl of Vin’s stomach disrupted the quiet. “Hungry, Vin?”  Buck teased.</p><p>“I know I am,” JD exclaimed.</p><p>Nathan leaned back in his chair. “I’ve heard that new deli down the street is pretty good. Anyone else want to try that for lunch?” A general chorus of agreement went up.</p><p>“Since you brought it up, you should go get it,” Buck quipped.</p><p>Nathan rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised? What does everyone want?”  A chorus of orders followed, Nathan scribbling them down to try to keep them straight.</p><p>Vin stood. “Reckon I’ll ask Chris what he wants.”</p><p>“Good luck,” Buck offered as Vin ambled to the door of Chris’ office. Vin knocked lightly on the door, and when no response came, pushed open the door. He frowned at the darkness in the office and stepped in, calling Chris’ name softly.</p><p>“Chris? You okay?”</p><p>A whimper drew Vin’s attention to the bathroom. He hurried into the bathroom, stopping short at the sight of Chris, crumpled on the floor, a small pool of greenish vomit next to his face. A single long-legged stride brought him next to Chris. Vin rolled Chris on his side and checked to make sure he was breathing. A moan of pain was Chris’ only response. Vin breathed a sigh of relief to see Chris was still breathing steadily. He stood and crossed to the doorway of Chris’ office. “Nathan! Chris needs you!”</p><p>Nathan immediately dropped the list on his desk and grabbed his bag. “What’s wrong?” He snapped as he hurried after Vin. Vin just shook his head. Nathan knelt next to Chris and checked his vitals. “He’s clammy—in shock. Chris?” Nathan tapped his cheek, trying to get a response. Chris moaned in, and Nathan tapped his cheek again. “C’mon, Chris, open your eyes. Can you tell me what’s going on?”</p><p>Vin had hurried back into the office when Nathan had said that Chris was in shock to grab the blanket on the back of the couch. He hurried back into the bathroom in time to hear Chris slur, “Migraine.” Vin draped the blanket over Chris, careful to avoid getting it in the vomit.</p><p>“You take anything for it?” Nathan’s voice was professional, but Vin could hear the concern in his voice.</p><p>“Tried this mornin’. Didn’ help.”</p><p>“I can give you a shot of Codeine, it should help, but it’ll knock you out,” Nathan offered calmly.</p><p>“Please,” Chris whispered.</p><p>“Alright,” Nathan murmured. He dug into his bag and started prepping the shot.</p><p>Vin sank to his haunches in front of Chris and laid his hand on Chris’ shoulder. “Why didn’t ya say sump’n, Cowboy?”</p><p>Chris reached for him, and Vin gently gripped his arm in their usual forearm clasp. “Can’t be weak,” he whispered, and Vin caught a flash of green eyes, clouded with pain.</p><p>“Ain’t weak to ask for help when you’re hurting,” Nathan said quietly. “Vin, can you roll up his sleeve?” Vin shifted his hold on Chris’ arm and unbuttoned the cuff so he could roll the sleeve up above his elbow. Nathan swabbed the area with an alcohol pad and injected the drug; Chris didn’t react. Nathan disposed of the needle and sat back, eyeing Chris worriedly. “That should kick in pretty quick,” he said quietly, and Vin wasn’t sure for whose benefit he said it. Vin went back to gripping Chris’ forearm and watched Chris’ face. Gradually the lines of pain smoothed out, until Chris looked as relaxed as when he slept. Nathan stood. “We should get him off the floor; I’ll grab Josiah.” Vin dipped his head in acknowledgment but didn’t take his eyes off Chris.</p><p>“What’s goin’ on, Cowboy?” He murmured under his breath.</p>
<hr/><p>Nathan stepped out of the bathroom and was unsurprised to find the rest of the team huddled around the doorway. “What’s wrong with Chris?” Buck demanded immediately.</p><p>“Migraine. He passed out on the floor of the bathroom,” Nathan said tersely. Buck winced and looked a bit abashed. “I gave him Codeine, and he’s out now, but we need to get him off the floor.” Josiah immediately stepped forward, and Nathan shifted aside to let him past, then followed him. Josiah knelt next to Chris, and Vin helped him ease Chris into his arms. Josiah carried Chris into his office and gently laid him on the couch. Nathan had placed a pillow at one end of the couch, and lifted Chris’ legs onto the opposite arm. “Not much point in having a couch in here if you can’t lay down on it,” Nathan grumbled as he tucked the blanket around Chris.</p><p>Vin quickly cleaned up the mess on the bathroom floor as Nathan and Josiah got Chris settled on the sofa. Finished, he leaned in the doorway, studying Chris. “How long you reckon he’ll be out fer?”</p><p>Nathan grabbed Chris’ desk chair and wheeled it next to the sofa. “Couple of hours, at least. I’ll stay with him, make sure he’s okay.”</p><p>“Reckon this is partly my fault.” Buck’s voice was heavy with guilt. “Chris don’t usually drink much on a work night, and if he does, he’s got a rite strong reason for it. I shoulda checked on him, made sure he was okay.”</p><p>Nathan sighed as he sat down. “I should’ve checked on him too, made sure there wasn’t anything else going on.”</p><p>“Twice in the last two weeks, I called Chris about goin’ out ridin’ together, ’n’ he turned me down, said he had a bad headache ‘n’ didn’t feel up to ridin’.” Vin added quietly.</p><p>Ezra looked uncomfortable. “I have observed that, as of late, Mr. Larabee has appeared to be suffering from some level of headache most evenings when he departs the premises,” he murmered. JD looked around at the others, confused and worried.</p><p>“Blaming ourselves, or each other, will do us no good,” Josiah declared. “Now that we know there is a problem, we can address it.”</p><p>Nathan looked down at Chris. “Hard to do when we don’t even know what’s going on.”</p><p>“If Chris will even talk to us, when he wakes up,” JD exclaimed. He scowled as the others glared at him. “What? Chris doesn’t admit when he’s hurt or sick or anything!”</p><p>“The lad is right,” Josiah rumbled.</p><p>Nathan frowned thoughtfully. “Chris has migraines, has prescription meds for them. He told me he usually only gets one or two a month, but they’re pretty bad. He only takes the meds as a last resort, though, because he doesn’t like the side effects. How long has he had migraines, Buck?”</p><p>“About ten years now. He got caught in an explosion when we were on the Teams, got a real bad concussion, maybe even a TBI. He’s had migraines ever since.”</p><p>“And he was caught in that explosion two months ago, and got a concussion from that,” JD pointed out.</p><p>“Ain’t likely ta be a coincidence,” Vin quietly stated what everyone was thinking.</p><p>Nathan nodded slowly. “He said he tried to take something for it this morning, but it didn’t help. He didn’t say if it was the prescription meds or something over the counter though.”</p><p>Buck frowned. “He keeps some of the meds in the medicine cupboard here. And I can’t imagine he managed to drive here with a migraine.”</p><p>Vin ducked back into the bathroom, then came back a few seconds later. “None in there, jest extra-strength Tylenol.”</p><p>“Perhaps Mr. Larabee began carrying it on his person, if he was experiencing an increase in consumption of the medicine.” Ezra suggested.</p><p>Nathan quickly checked Chris’ pockets and shook his head. Vin picked up Chris’ leather satchel that he used to carry things to and from the office. Quickly checking the pockets, Vin unearthed the bottle in the bottom of the main compartment and held it up. “Empty.”</p><p>Nathan snatched it and examined the label. “It was filled two months ago, right before he got hurt. It should’ve lasted him six months.”</p><p>Buck blew out a hard breath and rubbed his mustache. “Guess we know what’s goin’ on now.”</p><p>“We don’t know why, what’s going on inside his head,” Nathan shot back. “I’m going to make sure he gets an MRI soon as possible, make sure there’s nothing dangerous going on.”</p><p>JD looked skeptical. “How are you going to get him to agree to that?”</p><p>Nathan smiled grimly. “Easy; he’s on desk duty until he gets it done.”</p><p>Josiah chuckled. “That’ll do it.”</p>
<hr/><p>The rest of the team drifted back into the office. Josiah offered to go get lunch while Buck, JD, and Ezra went back to work After collecting money from them, Josiah slipped out. In Chris’ office, Nathan and Vin watched over Chris. “Why wouldn’t he say anything? What’s weakness got to do with it?” Nathan muttered in frustration.</p><p>“Gotta be self-reliant. Anythin’ else is weakness,” Vin said quietly.</p><p>Nathan’s eyes flashed to Vin. “You talkin’ about you or Chris?”</p><p>“Both. Reason we understand each other so good.”</p><p>“Chris has to know this could be serious. You at least don’t it hide if it’s serious. Why would he?”</p><p>Vin considered his answer. “Reckon Chris figures since he’s the head of the team, he’s gotta be Superman, can’t be anything but strong ‘n’ in control all the time.” Vin finally answered.</p><p>“That’s bullshit,” Nathan said flatly.</p><p>Vin grinned faintly. “Didn’t say it made sense, jest that’s what he thinks.” Nathan harrumphed, and they fell back into silence. “Do ya think he’ll be alright?” Vin asked quietly after a while.</p><p>Nathan glanced at him. “It’s Chris; hardheaded as he is, I figure it can’t be too serious.” At least, he hoped that was true. Vin relaxed at the reassurance. They sat in silence until Josiah walked back into the room, carrying a bag of food.</p><p>“You both need to eat; I brought some chicken noodle soup back for Chris, when he wakes up.”</p><p>Vin’s eyes lit up. “Thanks, ‘Siah!” He snatched the bag from Josiah and dug out his sandwich, a towering corned beef on rye. Nathan echoed his thanks as he took his Turkey club.</p><p>Josiah gently laid his hand on Chris’ cheek. “Sleeping like that takes away a lot of years and pain,” he murmured. He shifted his hand to Chris’ forehead and closed his eyes briefly, in prayer or blessing, before gently cupping his cheek again. He smiled sadly down at Chris before slipping back out into the office.</p><p>“He’s right,” Nathan commented, sandwich forgotten. “Chris looks a lot younger and more peaceful asleep.”</p><p>“Reckon we all wish we could ease that pain,” Vin said softly. Nathan nodded somberly.</p>
<hr/><p>Nathan’s prediction of Chris sleeping for a couple of hours turned out to be wrong; Chris slept for the entire afternoon. Vin went back to his desk after finishing his lunch, leaving Nathan to look after Chris. Buck grew worried, but Nathan assured him that Chris clearly needed the rest, and it was best thing for him now anyway. When Chris finally stirred about five o’clock, Nathan was a little relieved himself. Chris groaned softly, eyelids fluttering as he struggled to wake up. His head felt floaty, and his mouth tasted awful bitter. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been drinking, but it sort of felt like waking up after he’d gone a bender. He managed to open his eyes and found himself staring straight into Nathan’s face. Nathan broke into a grin at seeing Chris’ eyes open. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” Chris stared at him blankly for a moment, then groaned softly and shut his eyes as he remembered what had happened. “Head still hurting?” Nathan asked.</p><p>Chris tried to focus on his head but couldn’t quite manage it. “Don’t think so,” he muttered.</p><p>“Good. Here.” Chris felt a cold water bottle pressed into his hand, and opened his eyes to see that it was uncapped already. Chris tried to sit up some so he could drink easier, and immediately felt the room spin. He shut his eyes tightly. “Woah, take it easy,” Nathan murmured soothingly, and slid an arm under his shoulders to help him sit up some. Chris sipped gingerly at the water, trying to wash the bitterness out of his mouth. Once he’s lowered the bottle, Nathan asked, “Feel like trying to sit up some?” Chris considered, then nodded slightly. Nathan helped him slide up a little so his shoulders were braced on the arm of the couch and his feet weren’t hanging off the edge anymore. Nathan tucked the pillow against the back of the couch so Chris could lean his head against it, then rested his hand on Chris’ shoulder. Chris relaxed at the grounding touch and was more than halfway back to falling asleep  before Nathan spoke again. “You scared us, Chris,” Nathan began. “Vin came into the office to see what you wanted for lunch, and found you passed out on the floor of the bathroom. We didn’t know what to think.” Nathan paused, then asked calmly, “How bad have the migraines been lately?”</p><p>Chris had a feeling that Nathan already knew if he was asking, but he tried anyway. “They’re fine.”</p><p>Nathan raised his eyebrows. “Really? So you didn’t run through six months’ worth of medication in two months, and turn down riding with Vin because you’ve been having constant headaches and migraines since you got that concussion two months ago?” Chris remained stubbornly silent, but couldn’t quite meet Nathan’s eyes. Nathan sighed. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered. “Why didn’t you say something, Chris?”</p><p>“Figured it was just because of the concussion and it would go away, at first,” Chris admitted.</p><p>“Two months,” Nathan said pointedly.</p><p>“Didn’t want to be weak,” Chris said quietly.</p><p>Nathan exhaled. “Admitting you’re sick or hurt is not weakness, Chris.”</p><p>“Yeah, it is.”</p><p>“Then why do you preach that it’s not to Vin?”</p><p>Chris shook his head slightly. “It’s different.” His gaze was focused on the blanket, his hands twisting the edge of it.</p><p>Nathan leaned forward. “Look at me, Chris.” Chris kept his eyes fixed on the blanket, so Nathan repeated himself. “Look at me, Chris.” Finally, Chris looked up. Nathan softened his tone. “Who taught you that admitting you’re sick or hurt is weakness?”</p><p>“My father.” Chris looked down again, not having intended to admit that. “And the Teams, later.”</p><p>“I’d like to teach him a thing or two,” Nathan snarled.</p><p>Chris flinched, surprised, then smirked faintly. “Good luck; he’s a Colonel in the Air Force.”</p><p>“Well, he’d better not show his face around here,” Nathan grumbled, then sighed. “I know you realize he’s wrong, so why cling to it?”</p><p>“I’m the boss.” Chris took another sip from the water bottle. The conversation make him feel unstable.</p><p>“Being the leader doesn’t mean you can’t admit pain. In fact, it should mean the opposite. You need to be at the top of your game to lead us. If that means asking for help, admitting weakness, so be it!” Nathan sat back, wondering how much of this was getting through.</p><p>“Easier said than done,” Chris muttered after a few moments.</p><p>Nathan rested his hand on Chris’ shoulder. “We’ll always help you Chris, you just need to ask, to reach out.”</p><p>Chris reached up, surprising Nathan as he clutched at the hand on his shoulder. “I know,” he whispered shakily, “‘s just hard.” Nathan held onto Chris firmly until Chris seemed to regain some of his equilibrium. This emotional, physically clingy Chris was odd; then again, the man was still recovering from a severe migraine. Maybe this was closer to the real Chris that he tried to bury under a tough guy mask.</p><p>Once Chris had steadied, Nathan changed the subject. “You’re on desk duty until you have an MRI done. I want to make sure that you’re really alright.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Chris snapped reflexively, then winced a little.</p><p>“Uh-uh.” Nathan sounded unimpressed. “Can you look me in the eye and say that?” Chris looked down at the blanket again. Nathan rolled his eyes. “Shall I make an appointment for you tomorrow at Denver General?”</p><p>“Fine,” Chris muttered.</p><p>Nathan smiled in triumph. “Now that that’s settled, feel up to eating something? Josiah brought you some soup from that deli down the street.”</p><p>“I’m not really that hungry.” Chris sat up a little more.</p><p>“Have you eaten anything today?” Nathan questioned.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“You should eat some, at least, then. Getting something in your stomach will help you feel better.” Nathan stood and went to the door. Immediately, everyone looked at him. “Josiah, could you heat up that soup you brought? And some coffee, the caffeine should help with the lingering effects.”</p><p>“Of course,” Josiah rumbled with a big grin as he headed to the break-room.</p><p>“He’s awake?” Buck stood quickly.</p><p>“Yes, and I’m not about to stop you from checking on him.”</p><p>Buck was at the door in an instant, sliding past Nathan. He relaxed when he saw Chris sitting partially up, awake and smiling faintly. “Hey Stud, you gave me quite a square,” Buck leaned over Chris, studying him.</p><p>Chris’ lips twitched. “Didn’t mean to,” he offered quietly, and Buck took it as the apology it was. Chris offered his hand, and Buck gripped it firmly. Their eyes met, and Buck nodded once, satisfied, and released Chris.</p><p>Vin moved in, taking Chris’ arm in the forearm clasp that was their own, and looked at Chris long and hard. “Can’t have a double standard, Cowboy,” he rasped. “If’n it ain’t weak for me, it ain’t weak for you.”</p><p>Chris swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Might need you to remind me now ‘n’ then.”</p><p>“A’ course,” Vin said fiercely, and Nathan relaxed a little. The others were rallying around to support Chris. Chris and Vin’s embrace was broken by Josiah’s entrance, carrying a bowl of soup and a mug of coffee.</p><p>“Out,” Josiah said firmly. “Chris doesn’t need an audience to eat.”</p><p>Buck grinned. “Does that mean that we can go for the day?”</p><p>Chris waved a hand at him. “Go, let me eat in peace.”</p><p>“Indeed, our fearless leader undoubtedly would prefer his repast to be unsullied by uncouth company,” Ezra drawled from his position leaning against the door jamb.</p><p>JD, hovering behind him frowned. “Huh?”</p><p>Josiah grinned. “Ezra was simply repeating what Chris said, using bigger words.”</p><p>“I ain’t uncouth!” Buck protested.</p><p>“Yes, you are. Now, go.” Chris grumbled.</p><p>Ezra studied Chris for a moment, then said quietly, “I’m glad to see you back with us, Mr. Larabee.” Chris nodded in response. Ezra’s gold tooth flashed briefly, then he slipped back into the bullpen.</p><p>JD hesitated at the doorway, the blurted, “Are you alright, Chris?”</p><p>Chris smiled gently. “Yeah, I’m alright, kid. See you tomorrow.”</p><p>JD stared hard at Chris, the squared his shoulders and echoed Chris, “See you tomorrow.”</p><p>“Kid’s growing up,” Buck commented as JD left, then looked hard at Chris. “Take care of yourself, Stud.”</p><p>“Think I don’t have a choice, with all you nursemaids,” Chris grumbled. Buck beamed, slapped him on the shoulder, and loped out the door. Chris sighed and slumped a little as they left.</p><p>“Headache still bothering you?” Nathan asked sympathetically.</p><p>“Yeah.” Chris rubbed his forehead tiredly.</p><p>Josiah set the bowl of soup in his lap and handed him the coffee. “That should help.”</p><p>Chris took an eager sip of coffee, then froze as he looked down at the soup. “That’s an awful lot, ‘Siah.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s only half of it.” Josiah resting his hand on Chris’ shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked out the door as Chris glared at the soup.</p><p>Nathan studied Chris, puzzled, the suddenly called after Josiah, “He’s lost weight again, hasn’t he?” Josiah rumbled in agreement. Nathan sighed and asked, “Not feeling up to eating much lately?”</p><p>Chris tilted his head a little. “Headaches make me nauseous,” he admitted quietly.</p><p>“Need some anti-nausea meds to eat?”</p><p>“Probably would be a good idea,” Chris admitted.</p><p>Nathan nodded and dug into his bag, coming up with a bottle of pills. “Reglan,” he offered. Chris nodded, and Nathan shook out a pill. Chris took it with a swig of coffee, then started in on the soup. He stopped about halfway through, looking a bit uncomfortable.</p><p>Vin swooped in from where he’d been perched on the edge of the Chris’ desk. “I’ll finish it; be a nice appetizer ‘fore dinner.” He picked up the bowl and pretended not to notice Chris’ look of relief.</p><p>“You can go on home, Nathan, I’m okay,” Chris said quietly.</p><p>Nathan eyed him. “I believe okay better than fine. How are you getting home? I’m assuming you didn’t drive in this morning.” At Chris’ confused look, Nathan glared. “You did?”</p><p>“It wasn’t too bad yet,” Chris tried to defend himself.</p><p>Nathan groaned. “Chris, don’t ever drive with a migraine, again. Please.” </p><p>“I’m alright to drive now,” Chris insisted, and sat up straight up—and immediately paled.</p><p>“No, you’re not!”</p><p>“No, you ain’t!” Came two overlapping exclamations. “I’ll take ya out to th’ ranch,” Vin continued.</p><p>Chris scowled. “I’m not about to ride in that deathtrap of a Jeep,” he growled.</p><p>Vin held out his hand, and with a sigh, Chris dug his keys out of his jeans and dropped them into Vin’s hand. Vin turned to Nathan. “I’ll get him home safe.”</p><p>Nathan nodded. “I”ll text you details for the appointment.” He shouldered his bag and started to leave.</p><p>“Nathan,” Chris called, and waited for him to turn around. “Thank you.”</p><p>Nathan grinned “Anytime, brother.” Chris’ face softened.</p><p>“Alright, let’s get outta here.” Vin grabbed Chris’ satchel and slung the strap over his shoulder. “You ready?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Chris stood carefully, grateful for Vin’s support when the world spun. After a few moments, he steadied, and nodded to Vin. Vin released him and followed him to the door. Chris squinted at the light, eyes still sensitive. Vin reached over his shoulder to hand Chris his sunglasses. Chris slid them on with a murmured thanks. They stopped at Vin’s desk so Vin could gather his things and shut down his computer before heading downstairs in the elevator. It was a bit of a walk to the Ram, and Vin was steadying Chris by the time they got to it. He unlocked the truck and helped Chris into the passenger seat. Vin’s phone chimed with a text alert as he circled the truck to get to the driver’s seat. Vin couldn’t help but grin when he saw it was from Nathan.</p><p>
  <em>8:45am appointment. If he still has a headache, give him Tylenol.</em>
</p><p>“Got Tylenol in here, Cowboy?” Vin asked, not wanting to make a stop on the way out of town. Chris was slumped in the corner of the truck.</p><p>“Glove box,” Chris murmured without opening his eyes. When Chris made no move to get it himself, Vin reached across the truck to get it. He found it easily enough, shook out the tablets and put them in Chris’ hand. Chris swallowed them dry and leaned his head back into the corner. By the time they made it to the city limits, the smooth ride of the Ram had put Chris to sleep.</p>
<hr/><p>Vin parked the Ram in its usual spot and looked over at Chris, who was still asleep, huddled into the corner of the truck. Frown lines indicated the headache was still there, and Vin was loathe to wake Chris. Chris needed his bed though, so Vin called his name. “Chris. Chris, c’mon, we’re at the ranch. Wake up.” Chris didn’t stir, so Vin rested his hand on Chris’ shoulder and pressed gently while calling him again, wary of Chris’ hair-trigger instincts. Finally, Chris stirred and raised his head.</p><p>“Home?” He mumbled.</p><p>“Yep, time fer ya ta go ta bed.” Chris fumbled with his seatbelt, giving Vin time to get around to the passenger side to help him. Chris’ knees buckled as he slid out of the truck, and Vin barely kept him from falling. Vin pulled Chris’ arm over his shoulder and wrapped his own arm around Chris’ waist. “Yep, definitely time fer bed.” Vin got Chris up the front steps to the door, holding Chris steady with one arm as he got the door open and security system disarmed. Once inside, Vin steered them straight to Chris’ bedroom. As always, Vin thought the room seemed barren of personal touches, but he ignored it in favor of easing Chris onto the bed. “What do ya want ta sleep in?”</p><p>Chris tugged at his shirt, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. “Sweats ‘n the secon’ drawer.” Vin frowned. It was warm enough outside that Chris would probably get overheated in sweats. Then again, Chris had been shocky earlier. Maybe he got cold when he had a migraine and was still cold. Vin dug through the drawer and found a lighter weight pair of joggers and thinner Henley.</p><p>“Here.” Vin laid them on the bed next to Chris and batted his hands away to quickly unbutton his shirt and slip it off his shoulders. Chris managed to pull off his undershirt as Vin knelt to pull off his boots and socks. Vin watched him unfasten his belt and jeans, then stall as he tried to figure out how to get the tight jeans off. “Lift your hips,” Vin ordered, taking hold of the waist of the jeans. Chris did, and Vin peeled them off. Chris slumped back into the bed, and Vin grabbed his shoulder. “No ya don’t, not yet. Gotta get ya dressed again.” Vin wrestled Chris into the clothes he’d gotten out, then added a thick pair of socks when he felt Chris shiver. Chris collapsed back into bed, and Vin got the covers pulled over him. Vin turned off the bedroom light and pulled the blackout shades, plunging the room into darkness. He felt his way back to the bed and gently removed the sunglasses Chris was still wearing. “Sleep, Chris,” Vin murmured. “I’ll stay here, getcha up in th’ mornin’.”</p><p>“Thanks, Vin,” Chris muttered and fell asleep. Vin slipped out of the bedroom and into the hall. He had stayed at the ranch often enough to have a few sets of spare clothes here, and he knew what needed to be done at night. Vin used the spare bedroom closest to Chris to change, then headed outside to do the chores. Once the horses were taken care of, Vin made himself dinner with what Chris had in his fridge. Chris usually kept his fridge pretty well stocked, but it was much more barren than usual. Vin washed the few dishes he’d made, then locked up the house and armed the alarm system before going to bed. Normally he would still be up, watching tv or playing video games, but worrying over Chris had worn him out. Vin stopped to check on Chris and found him sound asleep, exactly how Vin had left him. Vin left both of their bedroom doors open so he could hear if Chris needed him, but it was silent all night.</p>
<hr/><p>“Well, doc?” Chris demanded as Dr. Vicki Martens walked into the room. Vin smirked from his seat in the corner. Chris had woken up seemingly back to normal, but surprisingly hadn’t kicked up a fuss at having the MRI done. Vin suspected that Chris finally realized the seriousness of the issue.</p><p>“You’re not dying,” Dr. Martens said dryly. Chris stood, and she pointed at him and said sternly, “Sit.” Chris sat reluctantly. “Looking at the MRI, there’s no new damage that we can see. We did notice that the old damage appeared to be aggravated though, which is probably why you’re have frequent migraines. It’s likely that this is technically what we call Persistent Post Traumatic Headache. PPTH is a secondary disorder, triggered by Traumatic Brain Injuries. Its symptoms are often similar to migraines, and it’s treated the same way as migraines.”</p><p>“What old damage?” Chris questioned, brow furrowed.</p><p>Dr. Martens raised an eyebrow. “The damage to your vestibular cortex. It’s why your migraines are vestibular, with vertigo, nausea, and light sensitivity. According to your medical file, it showed up after you got blown up ten years ago. It’s more than enough to diagnose you with a TBI, by the way. I don’t know why they didn’t diagnose you at the time. I’m guessing that after this latest concussion, you didn’t rest much?”</p><p>Chris scowled. “Nope, he didn’t.” Vin interrupted whatever Chris was planning to say. “Was back ta work the next day like usual.”</p><p>“That’s likely the reason why you are having more migraines than before; you never gave yourself the chance to heal.” Dr. Martens scolded. “Now, I’m prescribing a week of complete rest. No work, no exertion at the ranch, nothing.”</p><p>“Doc,” Chris protested, “I don’t need—”</p><p>“Yes, you do. I’d prescribe two weeks if I thought I could get away with it. If you don’t rest and heal, this won’t go away. I’m also changing the prescription for your medication. This new one is stronger and should work better. I’d also like to get you started on a migraine preventative, since this is an ongoing issue.” Dr. Martens held out the scripts.</p><p>Chris glared at it, so Vin reached out and took it. “I’ll make sure he fills them, doc.”</p><p>“Good. Now I don’t want to see you again for a while, Chris.”</p><p>“Trust me, it’s mutual, Doc,” Chris grumbled as he stood up to go.</p><p>Vin trailed after Chris as they left the office and headed downstairs. When Chris turned to go outside, Vin grabbed his arm. “Gotta get those prescriptions filled,” he reminded Chris. Chris sighed and followed Vin to the pharmacy. New meds in hand, Chris finally headed back to the Ram. Vin, sprawled in the passenger seat, smirked as Chris turned in the direction of the office. “Where ya goin’, Cowboy?”</p><p>“Gotta get your Jeep,” Chris replied innocently.</p><p>“And tell Nathan what th’ doc said.” Chris scowled.</p><p>Walking into the office, Chris was immediately bombarded with questions.</p><p>“You’ve returned, Mr. Larabee?”</p><p>“You alright, Stud?”</p><p>“Good to see you back on your feet, Chris!”</p><p>“What did the doctor say?” Nathan’s question overrode everyone else.</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“Not exactly,” Vin drawled.</p><p>Nathan immediately turned to him. “Since I can’t trust Chris to tell me what the doctor said, I’ll ask you. What did the doctor say?”</p><p>Vin ignored Chris’ indignant exclamation. “Said there’s no new damage, but the damage from the TBI ten years ago is kinda aggravated. He’s got some kinda headache disorder caused by it that ain’t technically a migraine but acts the same. Said since he didn’t rest after th’ last concussion, that’s prob’ly why he’s been havin’ migraines so bad. So she prescribed a week a' rest, no work here or at th' ranch. And gave him some new stronger meds ‘n’ a preventative med.”</p><p>Nathan turned to Chris. “See, why couldn’t you have just admitted that? A week off isn’t a big deal, and the new meds should help.”</p><p>“When I take time off, I work at the ranch. What am I supposed to do if I can’t work on the ranch?”</p><p>“Sleep,” Ezra said succinctly.</p><p>“Same thing you <em>should</em> do to recover from a concussion. Sleep, eat, don’t do anything strenuous. Don’t watch tv, listen to that record collection you’re building.” Nathan ordered.</p><p>“I’ll come over to do the chores and exercise the horses, Chris, so you don’t hafta worry about that,” Vin offered.</p><p>Nathan nodded. “That’s a good idea, Vin,” he agreed seriously. “In fact, maybe you should stay over, make sure Chris does what he’s supposed to.”</p><p>“If y’all are done trying to run my life, I’d like to get my things and go,” Chris interrupted, trying to ease around the group to get to his office.</p><p>“What things, brother? You won’t need anything from work.” Josiah asked peacefully as he slid sideways, blocking Chris from his office.</p><p>“My laptop, for one,” Chris gritted.</p><p>“Nope.” Nathan shook his head. “No screen time, Chris.”</p><p>“I believe they are attempting to facilitate your departure, Mr. Larabee.” Ezra threw in.</p><p>Chris planted his hands on his hips and scowled. “I don’t want to depart; I want to do my job!”</p><p>“Sorry Chris, but you’ve been overruled,” Nathan said cheerfully. “Now, do you need someone to drive you back to the ranch?”</p><p>“I drove here myself!” Chris snapped and stalked to the door, muttering under his breath. Laughter followed him out.</p><p>Once he was gone, the six sobered. “So how would a TBI get aggravated by a concussion? And cause migraines that ain’t migraines?” JD questioned, frowning.</p><p>Nathan sighed. “If the concussion affected the same area as the TBI, it could cause a temporary increase in symptoms from the TBI. It’s like if you slightly sprain your ankle, but you’ve sprained it real bad in the past. Even if it’s just a minor sprain, it takes longer to heal ‘cause your body is overreacting to it. And the headaches are basically the same kind of headaches you get after a concussion, they just keep happening for years later. That’s my understanding, if the doc was talking about what I think she was.” Nathan looked to Vin for confirmation.</p><p>Vin half-nodded, half-shrugged. “Sounds ‘bout right.”</p><p>“Oh.” JD nodded. “That makes sense.”</p><p>“Did the doctor actually officially diagnose Chris with a TBI?” Buck asked Vin.</p><p>Vin shrugged. “Not sure. She said th’ damage was enough to diagnose it and he shoulda been diagnosed back then. Guess ya’d have ta check his medical records.”</p><p>“Oh, I will,” Nathan muttered.</p><p>Buck fingered his mustache. “Back then, if you were anything more important than sailor or infantry, you didn’t get diagnosed with a TBI. Or PTSD, and we all know he has that—and not just from the Navy either. Guess it’s finally starting to change, though.”</p><p>“At least we know now, and can keep a closer eye on it,” Nathan remarked.</p>
<hr/><p>Vin moved out to the ranch for the week to help Chris. Surprisingly, Chris spent the first couple of days sleeping. Once he was up and around again, he seemed content to his listen to his collection of Johnny Cash and the Eagles on vinyl while whittling a menagerie of animals. Vin let him take a few short rides around the ranch on Pony when Chris was especially bored, but kept Chris from doing any work. “What are ya gonna do with those animals?” Vin was sprawled out on the floor in from of the fireplace. Chris had put on Johnny Cash’s Live At San Quentin Prison record while he worked on whittling a dog. It was the last day of Chris’ mandated week of rest.</p><p>Chris shrugged. “Give ‘em to the Children’s Hospital, probably.”</p><p>“You’re not gonna give ‘em ta Billy?”</p><p>“He’s got a couple already. And Mary doesn’t like them.”</p><p>Vin fell silent again, watching the flames dance in the fireplace and listening to Cash sing about having stripes. “Are you and Mary serious?” He roused himself to ask, eventually.</p><p>“No.” Chris ran his thumb over the area he’d just finished, checking for rough spots. “I’ll never get together with her. She wanted it but gave up a while back. I’ll escort her sometimes, especially if we have to go to the same event, but that’s all it is.”</p><p>“Was wonderin’.” Vin stirred. “Reckon some folks are expectin’ an announcement sooner rather than later.”</p><p>Chris smirked. “She’ll have one. She’s seriously dating someone right now.”</p><p>Vin grinned slowly. “And you’re helpin’ ‘em cover for it.”</p><p>“Yep.” They fell back into companionable silence. Eventually the record spun down, and by mutual silent agreement they went to bed. The next morning, they chored together and ate breakfast before driving into work. They were the first ones in; Vin disappeared into the break-room to make coffee while Chris reacquainted himself with his office. Chris was growling as he worked through his email when Vin brought him a cup of coffee. Nathan followed him in.</p><p>“Feeling better, Chris?”</p><p>“Yes, actually,” Chris admitted. He sat back in his chair. “The new meds seem to work better, too."</p><p>“Good,” Nathan said satisfied. “I’ll be watching more closely now, make sure we don’t have repeat of this!”</p><p>Chris’ lips twisted. “Thanks, Nathan,” he said dryly.</p><p>Nathan couldn’t tell if Chris meant it sincerely or not. “I’ll let you get back to that email,” he said with a grin and scurried out of the office behind Vin when Chris snarled.</p><p>Chris relaxed and sat back once they’d left. He was glad to have the help and support of the team, even if he didn’t often admit it in so many words. He’d have to have a barbeque out at the ranch soon to thank them. A smile playing about the corner of his lips, Chris turned back to his computer. At the very least, it would give him something to look forward to while he dealt with all the paperwork and bureaucracy of a federal agency that had built up over the last week.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I did some research, but I’m not a medical professional. If it seems like the boys are glossing over the PPTH and focusing on the TBI, it’s because they’re more familiar with migraines and TBIs. And I added in the PPTH later after the first draft when I ran across it doing research. It seemed like it fit.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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